


A Woman Filled with Fire

by Restitutor_Orbis



Series: A Ballad of Fire [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 08:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Restitutor_Orbis/pseuds/Restitutor_Orbis
Summary: Leliana once thought that the woman from Lothering was dead, snubbed out forever. Now, she thinks otherwise.





	A Woman Filled with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Just Leliana fawning over the Inquisitor and being thankful for her.

_Originally_ _Posted on my Tumblr blog: Herald-Divine-Hell_

* * *

 

The golden streams from the sun lazily spread across the sky, lighting the world in hues of red, gold, and pink. A cool wind lightly danced against the exposed, pale skin, the soft satin dress gown fluttering aimlessly at her legs. 

Sunrise always enraptured Leliana. There was something in the way the sky twisted in a sea of fire, leaving the mountains burning and their rocky surface glazed with golden-touched snow. Dipping shyly over the thin horizon, the sun peaked red. Leliana did not know if the Maker truly existed - her faith had shattered a far too long ago, leaving only a thin string attached to the young girl from Lothering - but if he was anything, he was an artist, simple as that.

The old tune Mother Giselle sang when they laid cuddled, broken, spirits shattered, seemed only a thousand years ago, but these words seemed to ring true. The dawn had came, though not in the way the spymaster had expected. 

Darkness still lingered deep within herself. Shadows licking the sounds that had been left behind by so many others - Marjolaine, the Warden, Justinia herself - still remained, but only weaker, whimpering, even. Once, when everything laid covered in shadow and thicken by darkness, Leliana would have thought it impossible. That she would feel alive after so many years burning out the fire that made her her, beating the light out of a girl who saw beauty in nearly everything. It  _ was _ impossible. She could never return to the Leliana who once sung of heroes longing for their lovers, and danced with her Warden beside a fire that reached tenderly up toward the sky. That girl had died, too beaten and broken to return.

Leliana turned, tugging the robe close to her shoulders and inhaled cold air, a shiver trembling up her spine. 

The warmth washed away the steady cold leaving only the risen goosebumps as its only markings. Leliana sighed blissfully. She twisted her neck left and than right, popping cramps and tight knots that formed in her neck. Her body felt rested, and for a long while, she thought of the last time she had been so content. It had to be months, maybe, dare she say, even years. It felt good. Wonderful, even. Beneath her robe that technically did not belong to her, Leliana stood there in the nude. Her body stilled hummed from the rest that she had just been torn from, but she cared little in truth of that.  _ Let it hum _ , she thought, smiling.  _ It had been a long while since it had.  _

Leliana’s gaze fell to the bundle mass that laid spread in the large, four-post bed. Leliana had to bite back a laugh, and the smile that threatened to blossom on her cheeks. 

Black, tangled curls spread shadowy across the white sheets. The blankets fell down to revealed the pale, near ethereal, skin that was layered with light muscles of many years from swing a staff about. A soft, near glowing, face, flushed from warmth, pressed lightly against the pillows. Dribbles of drool leaked out, and Leliana was glad that no had gotten on her during their cuddling. 

Lower down, Leliana saw the soft rise of the Inquisitor’s hip, the sight akin to a sloping hill, and she had to bite the bottom of her lip as thoughts of those supple, lithe legs quivering from little songs Leliana had conjured up the previous night. Her little lover could sing, on that Leliana could agree. 

Her feet carried her on their accord, and she found herself at the side of the bed, staring down at the Inquisitor who’s arms laid on the place where Leliana once rested and the other dipping on the side. Leliana’s hand rose, and she brushed the soft curls from her lover’s face, enjoying the sight of the curved, chiseled jaw and blissful appearance of her lady lover.  

Her thumb began to stroke her Inquisitor’s ear. Her Inquisitor...huh. She liked the sound of that. 

For a moment, the serene scene shattered. Leliana stared alarmed as she observed the Inquisitor’s brows furrowed together, before relaxing for what the spymaster assumed was the realization on who was caressing her. The smile returned, an a laugh threatened to bubbled out of her chest. A snort, instead, tumbled out, but the Inquisitor was glad that her love was not awake to her it. She could - nor would - not bear the teasing that would unfurled. 

After regaining her composure, Leliana continued gently stroking her love’s cheek. Once, she dipped upward to run circles at her high cheekbone, her thumb pressing against the bone with a soft touch. 

The Inquisitor looked beautiful liked that, unmarred by the chains of duty that came with being a savior. Despite the small smile that often danced at the corner of her ripe lips, Alexandra was the epitome of leadership. There was no way of denying her love when her back straightened, her jaw set, and her eyes gleaming a green-golden light that only a visionary could spark. A distant glaze, one filled with hope of the future and promises of sweet victory. That was the world Leliana would gladly follow the Inquisitor into. One they would both build, together. 

Her smile grew, uncontrolled and filled with a warmth that she could only contribute as love. She would continue to live, she decided. Even if meant she had to face down another Archdemon, she would live. Live for the single woman that did not want her to indulge in killing, unlike so many others. Who saw the withering, dying fire of a woman all thought dead; who sought to revive it, to strengthened it. Perhaps she did die, Leliana was not quite sure. Once, she had been, but not now. Not when the woman who stared at her like she placed the stars in the skies told her that she was not a woman molded by steel, driven by blades, but one as beautiful and lasting as the red, shimmering sun. The Inquisitor had whispered  to her, when they first became one, in both body and soul. Leliana could still her burning lips against the front of her neck, lips that left behind marks like a painting. She could still feel how Alexandra’s lips and hands practically worshiped her, leaving tender against every scar that curled across her body. 

Perhaps, that woman did die, but another rose in her place. Stronger. Powerful. One filled with fire. 


End file.
